


And Time Stands Still

by SupaKawaiiDesu



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Nonbinary Character, Other, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 06:18:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8390482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupaKawaiiDesu/pseuds/SupaKawaiiDesu
Summary: By the time I realized that there were more than two genders, I’ve already had started to act like neither the stereotypical boy or girl. Simply put, I was a person. A person named Yuri, that didn’t care about their partner’s gender, or their nationality or race, that liked to skate on ice and really fucking missed their best friend.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ihaveantsinmyhead](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ihaveantsinmyhead).



> Yes hello hi I'm back from the dead!! My first fanfic in 10 months, shame on me oops

When I was six, my favorite animals were horses, and I loved riding. I discovered vaulting and switched over to gymnastics and finally ballet. My parents were always supportive of me doing sports, and drove me to my training every time.

 

When I was nine, my ballet teacher suggested to try ice-skating. I sticked to the sport ever since. The gracefulness of the motions most skaters had, and the speed and beauty of the sport never failed to amaze me. Although I was fairly young, I used my whole free time to get better. It had helped a lot that my ballet teacher’s family owned an ice rink, and that my father loved seeing me try on beautiful dresses for competitions. My Mom didn’t care about that at all, she was just happy to see me enjoy a sport. Maybe she was just happy I sticked to one for once.

 

When I was ten, someone named Velika started to get quite famous. She was just some years older than me and already won under-18 competitions. I watched her every performance with interest and admired her beauty and skill to the point where I was becoming obsessive. As I plastered my room with posters of Velika, my parents just smiled and said something about how good it was for me to have idols.

 

When I was twelve, I switched to a girls’ boarding school and had to give up sports because I had no free time ever since. At first I liked it there, but I’ve always had guys as friends and I didn’t like any of the other girls - they were either too nasty, or loud and exhausting. I was ridiculously lonely there, until a new girl some years older than me switched classes and ended up being my new roommate. The new girl was named Velika and didn’t speak a word of Japanese, since she just moved from Russia. We communicated a lot over gestures, expressions and ridiculous phrases that google translate spit out. I never told her about my time ice-skating or anything related to it for that matter, fearing she would laugh at me for trying to copy her style or something like that. We became best friends in no time.

 

When I was thirteen, we’ve already had established that kind of friendship where physical closeness was the norm. We cuddled when watching a movie together, held hands when we walked through our school, leaned on each other when the day was getting long and we were tired. Sometimes, a strange look was thrown our way, but the most time the girls didn’t say anything. The teachers actually looked more bothered by our public display of affection than the people our age. I mostly shrugged it off, just tried to not think about it. To my surprise, Velika seemed even more affectionate every time an ugly line was said to us. At the time, I thought it was completely normal to ‘talk’ via body contact when Velika and I didn’t even speak the same language.

 

When I was fifteen, Velika had already learned a big chunk of Japanese. We were teasing the other constantly and about everyone and everything, and somewhere in those witty remarks I accidently admitted to have no preference for my partner’s gender. Velika actually started to cry because she thought she was the only one thinking like this.

 

When I was sixteen, a big fat crush of mine began to form. I fell in love with Velika Nikiforov. Since she was the only one I had, and I didn’t want to lose my best friend, so I decided not to tell her. I both hated myself for feeling this way but I was also so full of love. Every touch, every conversation sparked something inside of me, but the spark was stifled by the heavy feeling of guilt- my mind seemed to tell me that friendship was not good enough. Not affectionate enough. That some part was always lacking. My grades were dropping, and I could read the worry in Velika’s face when she helped me with my homework. Half a year later, she finished school and moved out. My heart broke when she flew back to Russia with a one-way-ticket, waving at me with a wide grin on her face. When she turned around to make her way into the plane, I could see a hand covering her face and her shoulders twitching. The days, weeks, months after was the loneliest time of my life.

 

When I was seventeen, I got drunk a lot. Made out with two girls and some more. My grades dropped, and dropped, until the teachers called my parents for me to get my shit together. My parents thought I weren’t working to capacity, so they send me ice-skating again. It wasn’t like I could sleep better or do less shit they or the school would fuss over, but I managed to find an escape. It was bittersweet; it reminded me constantly of Velika, but me skating at age seventeen wasn’t anything like me at age nine. 

 

When I was nineteen, I finished school and started to skate professionally. I had nothing else, so I could at least try a career in that field. By the time I realized that there were more than two genders, I’ve already had started to act like neither the stereotypical boy or girl. One some days I put make-up on, on some days I didn’t. Sometimes I had no problem being assigned female at birth, sometimes it ruined my day. Simply put, I was a person. A person named Yuri, that didn’t care about their partner’s gender, or their nationality or race, that liked to skate on ice and really fucking missed their best friend.

 

When I was twenty-three, I competed internationally. A nearly-dead spark reawakened as I heard about the competition taking place in Russia, but I ignored the feeling. No hopes can be deceived when there is none to begin with.

 

When I was twenty-three, I thought the most important part of my life lied already behind me.

 

When I was twenty-three, I saw a guy named Viktor, who looked like a completely new person to me, but who skated like the girl I admired so much in my youth and behaved like the best friend I lost in school.

 

When I was twenty-three, time suddenly got an entire new meaning.

 

It stood still; didn't matter anymore.

 

The first thing I noticed, of course, was the fact he had cut his hair. His features were so much sharper now, and his body was strong and lean. Although his exterieur had changed drastically, I could never not recognize the way he closed his eyes when he sighed, and the slight curl of his lips when he was proud. Most importantly, I could never forget the way these eyes lit up when they fell on me.

 

Just like right now. 

 

My body doesn’t know whether to freeze or burn up in embarrassment. I want to look away, go away, avoid Viktor and his questioning gazes, but I can’t move. I should have called him. I should have sent letters. I should have sent packages with a new pair of his favorite sweats and some japanese sweets, I- I should have-

 

“Yuri.”

 

I blink. There are black skates in front of mine. I know this voice, I think to myself, last time I heard it it was not as deep, but it’s the same man who speaks. I know this man. I know Viktor.

 

I look up. Man, did he grow in these past years.

 

“Viktor. Hey.”

 

He laughs, breathlessly, with tears forming quickly in his eyes, before he goes for a hug. I embrace him tightly, trying to ignore the ugly sob that escapes my throat. It feels like we stand there hugging each other for an eternity, but it doesn’t matter. 

 

Because we are together again. And hopefully, for much, much longer this time.

**Author's Note:**

> go follow me on [nb-writer](http://nb-writer.tumblr.com/) or [skyler-writes](http://skyler-writes.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> I have a 2nd chapter planned but I’ll only add it if there’s enough response orz


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